Early Days
by TT-5
Summary: A series of 'Foyle Flashbacks' focusing on the young Foyle family.
1. Chapter 1 - An Early Morning

1919

Rosalind woke slowly, feeling more rested than she could remember feeling in days. She rolled over to check the bassinette but found it empty; Christopher must have gotten up with Andrew and let her sleep.

' _Darling Christopher!'_ She stretched luxuriously before throwing back the blankets and reaching for her robe. The house was still quiet when she came out of the lavatory so she tiptoed downstairs wondering where her boys were.

She didn't have to look far. Christopher was stretched out on the settee, his arms curled protectively around Andrew who was lying on his chest, both of them fast asleep.

Rosalind paused in the doorway her heart so full that for moment she thought she was going to burst into tears. She took a deep breath, blinking back her tears as she tried to memorize the scene, carefully noting the details so she could sketch it later.

The morning light filtering through the curtains allowed her to see how much younger Christopher always looked when he slept, the years the war had added smoothed away. The way his hold on Andrew was gentle and strong at the same time. The way Andrew had nuzzled his head under Christopher's chin, one perfect little hand gently grasping Christopher's pajama top.

Finally, afraid that Christopher would wake if she looked for much longer, she tore her gaze away and silently made her way to the kitchen to start breakfast. It was Saturday so Christopher didn't need to go into work and she smiled as she set the kettle on the stove, imagining the lovely day they would spend together, just the three of them.


	2. Chapter 2 - Baking

1922

"Rosalind?" Foyle called uncertainly as he surveyed the flour-covered kitchen from the threshold. In all the years they'd been married he had never seen it in such a state; it looked like it had snowed indoors and more concerning, his wife was nowhere in sight.

"Rose?" He tried again and then he heard a giggle and splash from upstairs, followed by his wife's exasperated voice saying " _Andrew!"_

He turned pausing to hang his hat and coat before heading for the stairs. He had just reached the landing when the bathroom door opened and a naked, mostly wet toddler with flour in his hair darted out giggling madly.

His son was heading for his bedroom but Foyle was quicker and swept him into his arms, prompting more giggles. "Down Daddy! Down!" Andrew cried as he wriggled desperately.

Foyle smiled and shifted the squirming little boy onto his hip just as Rosalind rushed out of the bathroom calling "Andrew come back here!"

She gave a sigh of relief when she saw Foyle holding him, "Oh Christopher thank goodness you're home!"

Foyle smiled softly, "Being difficult is he?" He asked mildly as he took in Rosalind's appearance. There was flour on her dress and in her hair and her arms were wet up to the elbow.

Rosalind laughed softly and shook her head, "No Christopher, _your_ _son_ is being impossible."

Foyle raised an eyebrow and looked down at Andrew who smiled innocently, "I _help_ Daddy!"

"Is that so?" He looked at Rosalind again, "Assuming he's responsible for the kitchen then?"

"Yes, I let him help me with the baking and foolishly left the flour tin beside him."

"Ah." She looked tired and Foyle frowned slightly, "Want me to take him or see to the kitchen?"

Rosalind smiled gratefully, "If you could get him bathed and into his pajamas that would be wonderful. I haven't even started on supper yet."

Foyle nodded and stooped to kiss her softly, "Why don't you make yourself a cup of tea love, we can just have omelets for supper tonight, it really doesn't matter."

Rosalind frowned, "Christopher…"

"Who's going to know Rose? Doesn't matter what we eat as long as I'm eating it with you."

"Biscits!" Andrew interjected before Rosalind could reply and his parents smiled fondly at him, "Me make biscits! Have biscits fow suppew?"

Foyle chuckled, "First you have to have a bath son, come on or your boat will leave without you!"

"No mine boat!" Andrew cried squirming in his father's arms and Foyle chuckled again.

"That's right, let's get it in the bath hmm?" He smiled at Rosalind, "Go and have some tea Rose, we'll be down soon."

Rosalind smiled and leaned up to kiss him, "I look forward to it."


	3. Chapter 3 - Silent Solace

1923

"Daddy?" Andrew asked again, head cocked to one side as he studied his father who was sitting motionless on the floor behind the settee. His eyes were open so Andrew knew he wasn't asleep but he wasn't responding.

Andrew frowned and took a step closer, "Daddy, don't you hear me?"

Christopher Foyle still made no reply; lost in memories of days long past, days he couldn't forget no matter how hard he tried.

Andrew stood quietly for a few more minutes and then he crossed to his father and crawled carefully into his lap snuggling close, "It's okay Daddy I'm here and I'll stay 'til Mummy gets home."

Surprisingly for such a talkatively little boy Andrew didn't say anything else, just rested his head on his father's shoulder so when Christopher finally came out of his flashback he found his son nestled in his lap, playing gently with his collar and almost wept with relief that this was his reality rather than the memories he had just escaped.

He held Andrew tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Andrew looked up at him questioningly "Daddy, do you see me now?"

Christopher felt a stab of guilt but all he said was, "Yes I do Andrew."

Andrew smiled happily, "If I went into the kitchen you wouldn't see me get a biscuit would you? 'Cause you can't see 'frough walls!"

An unexpected burst of laughter escaped Christopher and he pressed another kiss to Andrew's head, "Never change son, now what do you say we both have a biscuit before Mummy gets home?"

Andrew beamed and scrambled up, grabbing his father's hand to pull him to his feet, "Hurry Daddy or else Mummy will come and say 'not 'fore tea!'

Christopher laughed again, "Well we wouldn't want that!"

If Rosalind noticed the biscuit crumbs on their jumpers when she got home she didn't mention it. Instead she smiled softly at the sight of her two boys nestled in Christopher's chair while Christopher read Andrew's favourite story aloud.


	4. Chapter 4 - Tea

1925

The house was quite when DS Foyle came through the door although he could hear the tap running the kitchen. He smiled as he hung his hat and overcoat, ' _Andrew must be down for his nap…'_

He didn't say anything as he approached the kitchen wanting the chance to watch his wife for a moment before she noticed him.

What he saw instead was Andrew balancing somewhat precariously on a chair as he filled the kettle from the sink. He turned as Foyle entered the room and promptly spilled some of the water on himself, "Daddy!"

Foyle darted across the room to relieve his son of the kettle and set it down on the counter, "Andrew, where's Mummy?"

"Upstairs, her head's hurting her so I was making tea."

He looked very proud of himself and Foyle bit back a sigh as he surveyed the messy kitchen. It was clear that Andrew had tried to be very thorough in his preparations, most of the cupboards were open and the counters had the decided look of having been walked on.

"I see. It's nice of you to want to help Mummy feel better Andrew but you know you aren't allowed to use the stove."

Andrew paused and Foyle could practically hear him thinking, "I didn't use the stove." He said at last, doing his best to look innocent.

Foyle sighed again, "Glad to hear it, let's keep it that way alright? It's too dangerous for you to use the stove until you're older Andrew."

"When I'm six?" Andrew asked hopefully.

Foyle chuckled and ruffled his hair, "No you'll need to be older than that Andrew, possibly when you're ten but we'll see. Now how do you know Mummy's got a headache?"

"She said I had to be a good boy and play quietly till you got home 'cause her head hurt and I was, but then I thought tea might make Mummy feel better and I was hungry so I got biscuits and then you came home."

Foyle nodded as he surveyed the kitchen, making a mental list of what needed to be done. "Right, well why don't you and I make tea then?"

Andrew beamed, nodding eagerly, "Mummy said we were having stew!"

Foyle nodded again, noting the pot that sat on the back of the stove. "Lucky us, now I'll put the kettle on so we can make Mummy a cup of tea. Can you get the napkins and spoons and put them on the table?"

Andrew nodded and darted off the chair to do as his father asked. Foyle quickly set the kettle on the stove and checked the stew before taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

Twenty minutes later the kitchen was tidy and he was carrying a cup of tea upstairs, having left Andrew happily eating his stew at the table. He found Rosalind lying with a facecloth over her eyes which she removed as he approached the bed, "Christopher, you're home early."

Foyle smiled softly as he sat on the edge of the bed, "Not really, it's after five."

"What? Oh dear Andrew and the stew! I need to…" Rosalind went to sit up but Foyle put a gentle hand on her arm.

"Rest love," Foyle insisted, "both Andrew and the stew are fine, he's eating some now as a matter of fact. It was his idea to make you tea as it happens."

Rosalind looked surprised, "Really?"

Foyle nodded, leaning forward to kiss her gently. "Yup, he was filling the kettle when I got home." He quietly told her all about it as he ran his fingers gently through her hair, pleased to see some of the pain lines on her forehead vanish.

"Better?" He asked softly

Rosalind nodded, "Yes, thank you. I should get up…"

Foyle shook his head, "Stay and rest Rose, Andrew and I will be fine; speaking of which I should go back down. Do you want anything else? I could bring you some stew."

Rosalind shook her head as she took a sip of tea, "No thank you Christopher, this is perfect." She laid a hand on his cheek, "What a lucky woman I am to have such thoughtful boys to look after me." She smiled and kissed him softly, "Thank you Christopher."

Foyle smiled and kissed her back tenderly, "No less than you deserve my love, rest now I'll come up and check on you later."

Downstairs Foyle found Andrew attempting to reach the biscuits that he had carefully put out of reach. Shaking his head fondly he collect his five-year-old, reminding him the biscuits were for _after_ tea and then got himself a bowl of stew and settled them at the table again.

It was not quite how he had pictured the evening but Rosalind would be fine and Andrew prattled away happily asking more questions than Foyle could have answered in a week and frequently making his father laugh. It was hard not to feel like the luckiest man in all of England when he got to come home to Rosalind and Andrew everyday.

* * *

A/N: Apologies for this chapter vanishing earlier; I realized there were some errors I needed to fix so I took it down to do that. I don't expect to have much time for posting this summer so I am changing the story's status to 'complete' but if I have time and there is interest I may post more chapters at some point. All the best - TT-5


	5. Chapter 5 - First Meeting

1919

There were very few things that could reduce Lieutenant Charles Howard to anything close to tears. The war and his years in the navy before that had stiffened his already stiff upper lip impressively. But no amount of sea battles could have prepared him for the feelings that assailed his heart when his sister placed his newborn nephew in his arms with the words, "Andrew meet your Uncle Charles, Charles meet your nephew, Andrew Charles Foyle."

He stared at Rosalind and then at the tiny baby that she had just placed in his arms, so tiny that Charles could have easily cradled him in his hands. " _Rose?_ " his voice cracked and he cleared his throat blinking rapidly before glancing up to see that Christopher had crossed to stand with Rosalind, a proud loving smile on his face.

"You're sure?" He asked them, "I thought you were going to use Christopher's father's name?"

Rosalind smiled as she shook her head, "We talked about it but he doesn't look like a Reginald and Andrew Reginald Foyle sounds so terribly grand. You don't mind do you?"

She suddenly looked nervous and Charles shook his head, "Not in the slightest, I'm honored, really." He smiled at her before looking back down at the baby who had opened his blue eyes and was looking up at him curiously.

"Hullo Andrew, I'm your Uncle Charles." His voice was thick with emotion and he cleared his throat again.

Andrew just blinked and then shifted slightly before drifting back to sleep quite content with the warm nest his uncle's big arms provided.

Charles didn't realize he was holding his breath until Alice rubbed a gentle hand across his back as she leaned into study the baby. "Amazing isn't it?"

Howard nodded mutely, tearing his eyes from his nephew to carefully study his wife. She desperately wanted children and he was worried that this visit would be hard on her. His fears appeared to be unfounded though, Alice looked genuinely happy as she watched Andrew and he breathed a soft sigh of relief causing Alice to look up at him, "What is it?"

"Nothing love just thinking about how beautiful you are."

She blushed prettily at the compliment, " _Charles_ " she murmured glancing over her shoulder to where Christopher was trying to convince Rosalind to sit down and rest while he got the tea.

"It's true darling. You're a lucky boy Andrew, you're going to grow up surrounded by beautiful women." Unsurprisingly the baby made no response, only shifted slightly in his sleep.

Christopher appeared to have won as he was nowhere to be seen and Rosalind was seated on the settee. "Come and sit down, it feels like forever since I saw you both."

Charles nodded and slowly followed his wife to the settee, barely able to take his eyes off his nephew. Once they were seated Alice held out her arms, "May I hold him Charles or are you going to hog him for the whole visit?"

Charles flushed slightly but suddenly looked nervous, "Err all right love but you take him, I don't want to hurt him."

Rosalind and Alice both smiled at this and Alice reached out to expertly extract the baby from his arms, making it look so easy that Charles couldn't help staring at her. Her sister had had a baby the year before so she had more experience with babies then he did, but Andrew looked so terribly breakable that he had barely moved a muscle since Rosalind placed him in his arms.

As Alice rocked Andrew gently, cooing softly to him, Charles turned to his sister, looking her over carefully "How are you feeling Rose?"

Rosalind smiled and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, "I'm fine Charles, truly. Although Christopher's hardly let me out of bed for the past week, despite the fact that the midwife and Dr. White have both said there's nothing to worry about."

"Sounds perfectly reasonable to me, you need you're rest."

Rosalind gave her brother an exasperated look, " _Charles_ not you too! I'm perfectly fine."

"And I'm very glad to hear it Rose. But you can't blame Christopher for being worried. You had a long time of it and he was here the whole time, knowing you were in pain and there was nothing he could do about it. That's enough to make anyone worry."

He squeezed her hand again and she looked at him thoughtfully, with the same expression she had worn when they were children and he was explaining something he had learned at school. "I hadn't really thought of it like that. I suppose you're right, but I do wish he would relax just a little."

Charles smiled and kissed her forehead, "I'll speak to him later, but remember he's only doing it because he loves you."

Rosalind nodded and looked adoringly at Christopher as he came back into the room with the tea tray. Charles watched Christopher catch Rosalind's eye and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, then smile at her nod. To know that Rose had found someone like Christopher, who she loved with her whole heart and who adored her in return, more than made up for the few times he had seen her heartbroken.

They were about halfway through tea when Andrew woke and decided he was hungry. Rosalind took him back from Alice with a fond smile before inviting her sister-in-law to join her upstairs while she nursed so they could talk.

Once the women had departed Foyle and Howard subsided back into their chairs. "Congratulations again Christopher, he really is a handsome little chap."

Foyle beamed, "Thank you Charles. I'm just so relieved he and Rose are all right. I was so worried something would happen." He shuddered slightly as he took a sip of tea.

Howard nodded, "I don't blame you man, not sure I could take it. Alice wants children and I do as well of course, but you hear stories…" He trailed off and Foyle nodded understandingly.

"It's not always bad though, Rose was brilliant and I'm sure Alice would be as well."

Howard nodded, "I agree." He took a sip of tea "So Rose tells me you've hardly let her out of bed since Andrew was born, I understand why but she's feeling restless."

Foyle sighed, "I know she's started to get cross with me but I can't help it. I was able to get a few days off but I'll be back at work soon and I just want her to rest. I mean I can only do so much, even when I get up with Andrew at night I still have wake her every time he's hungry, which is fairly often."

"For what it's worth I agree with you, but it couldn't hurt to let her rest on the settee could it? I think it's a change of scenery that she wants as much as anything. Besides the view from the window will give her something to draw."

Foyle nodded thoughtfully, "That might work, I'll suggest it tomorrow. Thank you Charles."

Howard smiled, "Anytime old man, least I can do after how happy you've made Rose."

"No less than she deserves" Foyle said firmly and Howard nodded in agreement.

By the time the Howards' took their leave Charles had already promised to teach his nephew to swim as soon as he was old enough and it had been arranged that Alice would come down by train to see Rosalind in the middle of next week.

Christopher would be back at work then and Alice knew from helping her own sister that by that point Rosalind would likely be feeling a little overwhelmed by being at home alone with the baby all day.

As he pressed a very gentle goodbye kiss to his nephew's tiny forehead Charles knew that his world had changed forever, but unlike so many of the changes that the last few years had wrought, he couldn't be happier about it.


	6. Chapter 6 - Poetry

1919

WAHH…AHH…

The now familiar sound of crying slowly dragged Foyle from sleep as Rosalind groaned beside him, "Not again, I just fed him!"

He felt her begin to get up and forced himself to sit up, "No I'll get him, you got up last time." His eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep as he reached blindly for his dressing gown.

"Are you sure? You've got work tomorrow."

"Yes I'm sure, go back to sleep Rose, he'll be hungry again soon enough."

Rosalind nodded and relaxed back onto her pillow as Foyle stumbled around the bed and picked up their crying son carrying him out of the room so she could go back to sleep.

A quick nappy change later Andrew was still crying so with a sigh Foyle headed downstairs. He briefly put Andrew down on the settee so he could tighten his dressing gown and then picking up his son began a now familiar circuit around the lounge.

"What is the matter hmm? You're not hungry or wet, no real reason to carry on like this you know. War's over and if you believe the press there'll never be another. Not sure I believe them but I hope, I very much hope, for your sake that it's true."

Andrew was still crying fretfully but had looked up at the sound of his father's voice. Foyle smiled down at his son, still awed by this tiny person he and Rose had created and the almost overpowering love he felt for him.

"Don't see enough of me during the day is that it? Well you have me all to yourself now so what do you like to talk about? Politics?"

Andrew cried more loudly, "I quite agree not my preferred subject either. How about fishing?"

Andrew flailed one of his little fists in the air, face going red from the exertion of crying. "It's not that bad." Foyle promised, rather enjoying this 'conversation' with his son even if it was four in the morning.

"What else is there eh? Poetry?" It might have been Foyle's imagination but Andrew seemed to quiet slightly at the suggestion, "poetry it is then. Hmm let's see."

 _"On either side the river lie,_

 _Long fields of barely and of rye_

 _That clothe the wold and meet the sky . . ."_

As he spoke Foyle brought Andrew up to rest against his shoulder, one hand rubbing soft circles on his son's small back as he continued his slow circuit around the room.

By the time he reached the second section of the poem Andrew had stopped crying but Foyle didn't dare stop incase he wasn't asleep yet; instead continuing on his voice a gentle murmur as the sun rose slowly in the sky.

* * *

A/N: The poem Foyle quotes is "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred Lord Tennyson.


	7. Chapter 7 - Helping

1924

"'Xcuse me."

Constable Pickering felt a tug on his trouser leg and looked down to find a little boy, no more than five years old looking up at him. He crouched down smiling warmly, "Hello there, what can I do for you?"

"Do you know where the police station is?"

Pickering chuckled, "Yes I do lad, why do you need to know?"

"Daddy works there and Mummy hurt her foot and needs Daddy."

"I see, and what's your father's name?"

Andrew cocked his head to one side brow furrowing in confusion, "Daddy."

The constable chuckled again, "Sorry, foolish question. What's your name lad?"

"Andrew"

"Do you know your full name?"

"Andrew Charles Foyle."

"Ah, so you're Detective Sergeant Foyle's boy. Was your Mummy's foot badly hurt Andrew? Was it cut?"

Andrew shook his head, "It wasn't cut but Mummy couldn't walk, I soaked her scarf in the river and she wrapped it up but it still hurted her and she wants Daddy."

"I see. Could you take me to where your Mummy is?"

Andrew frowned, "Mummy needs Daddy, Daddy can fix _anyfing_." He spoke with complete confidence and Pickering smiled softly.

"I'm sure he can lad but if you show me where your Mummy is, I could probably help her get to your Daddy at the station."

Andrew studied him carefully for a long minute, looking remarkably like his father, and then smiled. "Mummy's at the river where Daddy fishes and I sail my boat. It's like Uncle Charles boat 'xcept it doesn't go far away like Uncle Charles does, he does important things for the King! But he has to go far away for lots of sleeps and I misses him."

"I see. Do you think you can show me where your Mummy is Andrew?"

Andrew looked around earnestly and then shook his head, "I don't remember I came to the road and looked for a policeman because I knowed you know where the police station was and it's safe to talk to policeman and I finded you."

Pickering smiled, "I'm glad you did lad, now lets get you along to the station." He stood up and held out his hand, which Andrew took readily, skipping along beside him and talking nineteen to the dozen.

* * *

A knock sounded on his office door and DS Foyle called for them to enter, eyes still focused on the witness statements in front of him.

"DADDY!"

Foyle's head jerked up as Andrew's compact little body landed in his lap. "Andrew, what are you doing here?" He glanced at the door where Constable Pickering was standing and then back at his son, "Where's Mummy?"

"At the river, she hurted her foot and I comed to get you."

Foyle's blood ran cold. "What do you mean she hurt her foot Andrew?"

"Mummy said it was time for tea and I was coming, but my boat didn't want to go yet so Mummy was coming to help and she stepped in a hole and it made her say a bad word and sit back down."

"I see" Foyle said, his heart rate slowly slightly. The dampness of Andrew's clothes was a testament to his son's time in the river and he switched Andrew to his other knee to try and limit the amount of water that transferred to his own trousers. "Did Mummy ask you to come get me?"

"Umm."

" _Andrew_."

"Mummy said she wished you was there! I got her scarf wet and she put it on her foot but it still hurted and she said she wanted you so I comed for you _and_ I looked bof ways when I crossed the road and didn't talk to any strangers 'xcept Constable Pickering but he doesn't count 'cause he's a policeman."

Foyle sighed and ran a hand over his face, "Well I'm glad you were careful Andrew but Mummy is probably very worried about you."

"Oh, I'm sorry Daddy, I didn't mean for Mummy to worry. I wanted to help."

Foyle sighed again and lifted Andrew off his lap before ruffling his hair, "I know you did Andrew, now we'd best go and get Mummy." He glanced up at Pickering who was still standing in the doorway. "Thank you for bringing him in Pickering, I do hope he behaved himself."

"Oh he did Sir, smart lad you've got there and very polite. Shall I ask Sgt. Rivers to have a car brought 'round so you can go and get Mrs. Foyle?"

"That would be most helpful, thank you Pickering. Andrew what do you say to Constable Pickering?"

"Thank you for helping me find the police station Constable Pickering." Andrew said politely, smiling brightly at the constable who couldn't help smiling back.

"You're most welcome lad. I'll go and see about the car Mr. Foyle."

Once Pickering had gone Foyle collected his hat and coat and led Andrew out into the hall, "I need to speak to Inspector Bradshaw Andrew, I want you to go and wait at the front desk with Sgt. Rivers alright?"

Andrew nodded and scampered off down the corridor only to be heard a moment later saying "Hello Sgt. Rivers! It's me!"

Foyle shook his head fondly and then proceeded down the hall to speak to his superior. When he reached the front desk five minutes later he found Andrew sitting on it, happily munching on a biscuit and regaling a smiling John Rivers with the story of his morning.

"So I…oh hello Daddy!"

"Andrew, did you remember to thank Sgt. Rivers for giving you a biscuit?"

Andrew nodded, "Uh huh, I'm still hungry though."

"Well once we get Mummy we'll do something about lunch. Come along now the car's waiting."

Andrew nodded and allowed Sgt. Rivers to lift him off the desk, hugging the older man briefly around the knees before taking his father's hand and following him out to the waiting car.

Andrew confirmed that they had been at their usual spot at the river so they had little trouble finding Rosalind who, to Foyle's great relief, looked well apart from the scarf wrapped around her left ankle and a paler than normal complexion.

Andrew, who had obediently held his hand since they left the car, immediately let go and ran to her calling, "Mummy I bringed Daddy!"

Rosalind smiled as she gathered him into a hug, looking more relieved than anything, "I can see that darling."

"Rose, are you all right?" Foyle asked worriedly as he crouched in front of her.

Rosalind nodded, giving him a reassuring smile, "Yes, I've just turned my ankle Christopher, I'll be fine." He smiled back and she turned her gaze to their son, "Andrew, what on earth were you thinking running off like that? I've been so worried about you!"

Andrew hung his head, "I'm sorry I maked you worry Mummy, I goed to get Daddy because he can fix anyfing. I was careful crossing the road, I stopped and looked bof ways and didn't talk to strangers 'xcept Constable Pickering but he's a policeman and he helped me find Daddy!"

He looked anxiously between his parents and Rosalind pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm very glad you were so careful Andrew but please don't go running off like that again."

Andrew nodded earnestly, "I won't Mummy."

Foyle smiled, "Good. Shall we get you home now my love?" Rosalind nodded and soon the little family was on their way; Rosalind in Foyle's arms and Andrew trailing slightly behind them with his boat.


	8. Chapter 8 - Boys and Boats

Apologies for this chapter vanishing - there were some formatting issues I needed to take care of.

* * *

1922

Charles winked at Alice as he hid the carefully wrapped package behind his back before knocking on the door. It opened immediately and a small form rushed at his knees with a joyful cry of "Unca Chares!"

Lt. Howard smiled and slipped the package to his wife so he could pick his nephew up, "Hello Andrew!"

Andrew wrapped his arms around his uncle's neck, "Unca Chares you comed!"

"Of course we did! Your mother wrote to say that a certain fellow was having a birthday today so we thought we'd better come." He winked at Rosalind as she ushered them in and closed the door.

"Me!"

"It's your birthday? Are you sure?"

Andrew nodded enthusiastically and held up four fingers, "I'm tree!"

Charles laughed, "I say, that's quite a lot isn't it?" he asked as he gently tossed his nephew in the air, causing the little boy to giggle with delight.

"Andrew, aren't you going to say hello to Auntie Alice?" Rosalind asked once the 'boys' had settled again.

Andrew nodded earnestly and Charles set him down, smiling as he immediately hugged Alice around the knees. Tearing his gaze from his wife and nephew he smiled at his sister stooping to kiss her cheek. "Hello Rose, it's good to see you."

"And you Charles, thank you again for coming. As you can see Andrew is thrilled."

Charles' smile broadened as they watched Andrew pull Alice into the lounge so he could show her his new storybook. "Our pleasure, truly. I've missed too many of his birthdays already. Not everyday that your only nephew turns 'tree' after all."

Rosalind laughed, "Very true. Now come and have tea, Christopher should be home soon."

Andrew had switched from Alice's lap to Charles' and all the adults were on their second cup of tea by the time they heard a key snick in the lock. Andrew, who had begun to look sleepy as he leant against his uncle, immediately tore into the hall with a shout of "DADDY!"

They heard a muffled conversation and a few moments later Christopher appeared in the doorway, Andrew, talking nineteen to the dozen, on his hip. Rosalind smiled and crossed to them and Charles couldn't help smiling at the picture the little family made.

He glanced across at Alice and seeing the wistful look on her face, gave her hand a tight squeeze. This was the type of family they had envisioned for themselves but as time went on it seemed less and less likely.

"And Auntie Alish _and_ Unca Chares is here Daddy!"

Christopher smiled at his son, "I can see that. Alice, Charles, it's nice to see you."

"And you Christopher," Charles replied while Alice took a sip of tea to regain her composure.

Rosalind gave Alice a concerned glance and then turned to her husband, "Christopher you might as well go and change and would you please take Andrew up to use the lavatory?" Christopher nodded and after stealing another kiss, carried their still chattering son upstairs.

After checking with Rosalind Charles fetched Andrew's present, leaving it on the low table in front of the settee where it would be on Andrew's eye level.

"I'm not sure who will be more excited about Andrew's present, Andrew or Charles." Alice confided as she poured the freshly boiled water into the teapot while Rosalind checked on supper. "Once he knew he'd actually be here instead of deployed he's practically been counting the days."

Rosalind smiled, "Well I hope it's nothing too grand, he's still only a little boy."

"Not to worry, Charles assures me it's very sturdy and apparently he had one just like it when he was Andrew's age."

"Oh Daddy look!"

Andrew's exclamation of delight could be heard very clearly from the kitchen and Rosalind smiled at her sister-in-law, "We should probably go back in before the 'boys' run out of patience."

Alice laughed lightly as she fitted the tea cozy, "I agree."

When they entered the lounge they found Andrew eyeing the present with barely contained excitement while Christopher and Charles stood talking in front of the fire, Christopher carefully watching his son out of the corner of his eye.

Alice smiled at her nephew as Rosalind set the tea tray down, "What do you suppose that is Andrew?"

"A present?"

Charles chuckled and crouched down beside him, "I think you're right. Maybe if your Mummy and Daddy say it's all right you could open it and see what it is?"

Andrew immediately looked at his parents, "Can I Mummy?"

Rosalind nodded; they had given Andrew his presents that morning before Christopher left for work so there was no reason to wait. "Yes you may."

Andrew beamed and immediately began ripping the paper off. He was enthusiastic but not very efficient and the adults couldn't help laughing. Finally the paper was removed to reveal a wooden box that Andrew frowned at briefly before looking up at his father, "Help Daddy?"

Christopher smiled and knelt beside his son, turning the box around to find the latch. Charles moved to stand with Alice, grinning expectantly. The lid was lifted to reveal a layer of paper, which Andrew pushed aside before letting out a little gasp.

Rosalind leaned forward to look just as Christopher carefully lifted the boat out of the box. It was a beautiful but sturdy replica battleship complete with a miniature union jack flying off the back.

"What do you think Andrew?" Charles asked, slightly surprised by the little boy's continued silence.

" _Oh Unca Chares_ it's the bestest boat I ever sawed! Is it like your boat? Can it come in my bath? Does it have a name?"

Charles laughed at the sudden stream of questions as Rosalind placed a gentle hand on her son's head. "Andrew, what do you say to Uncle Charles and Auntie Alice for giving you such a lovely present?"

"Thank you!" Andrew replied at once, throwing his arms and around his aunt and uncle's knees in turn. "Thank you Auntie Alish and Unca Chares, I loves you!"

Charles beamed and picked Andrew up pressing a kiss to his forehead and then handing him to Alice so she could do the same. "And we love you Andrew, very much. Happy Birthday."

Andrew wanted to try sailing his boat at once but Rosalind, knowing that such an activity would require a change of clothes, insisted that he wait until bath time. Andrew pouted briefly until Charles promised to help him sail it in his bath.

Suitably pleased with this compromise Andrew invited his father and uncle to come and play with his trains and when Alice came to call them for supper she found Christopher and Charles sitting on the floor watching Andrew propel his new engine around the track.

Supper was a very cheerful affair; Andrew was delighted to be having 'growned up supper' as his parents usually ate their supper after he had gone to bed. Even more exciting than supper though was his cake and his eyes widened comically when Rosalind brought it out of the kitchen, the candles already lit.

Andrew's expression grew even more surprised when she carefully placed it down in front of him and he turned questioningly to his father, "Good fire Daddy?"

Christopher chuckled. Ever since he had seen firemen putting out a small fire on the docks earlier in the week, Andrew had been asking questions about the differences between 'good' and 'bad' fires. "Yes Andrew, birthday candles are a good type of fire, but you need to blow them out so we can eat your cake."

"Oh." Andrew looked at Rosalind who nodded encouragingly and then took a deep breath and blew. It took him two tries to blow out all the candles enabling Rosalind to cut and serve the cake.

Andrew was soon wearing most of his icing and grinning happily as Rosalind told a story about what had happened to the cake at one of Charles' childhood birthdays.

Once the adults had finished their cake and cups of tea Rosalind announced that it was bath time. Andrew's protests were quickly silenced by the reminder that he could take his new boat in the bath and he willingly went upstairs with his mother and aunt, Charles promising to come up once the dishes were done.

He wasn't really sure why Christopher was smirking when he suggested he leave his jacket and waistcoat downstairs but his confusion was short-lived and despite rolling up his sleeves his shirt was very wet by the time the boat's maiden voyage was complete.

Rosalind giggled at the sight of him before sending him downstairs to dry off by the fire while she got Andrew into his pajamas. 15 minutes later his shirt was still slightly damp but the smile on Andrew's face as he told his father about how well his boat sailed more than made up for it.

Andrew asked Alice to read to him from his new storybook and was soon nestled in her lap playing sleepily with her pearls. He was very nearly asleep by the time the story was done and with a gentle smile Christopher told him to say goodnight to his aunt and uncle before carrying him up to bed.

It was still early and Alice and Charles were in no rush to return to London so they all settled by the fire with tea. Charles would be leaving on deployment soon so it would be months before they could spend another evening together in this manner.

Charles loved the navy and always had but the knowledge that it would cost him so much time with Andrew made his heart ache and he couldn't help slipping quietly into the little boy's room before they left. Andrew was sleeping soundly his blanket clutched in one hand and, to Charles' delight, his new boat sitting on the floor by the bed.

After a few minutes Charles stooped and straightened Andrew's blankets, brushing the hair back from his forehead as he murmured, "Fair winds and following seas Andrew, may you always return safely to your parents' harbour."

* * *

A/N: Howard's rank is purposefully lower in this story as I assume it would have taken him a little time to rise to the rank of Commander.


	9. Chapter 9 - Introductions

1920

"Dada? Dada!"

Christopher's head comes up and he sees his 14-month-old son toddling down the hallway toward him with surprising speed. He looks farther and sees Rosalind carrying on a conversation with the desk sergeant as she watches Andrew out of the corner of her eye.

He looks back at his son and sees what's about to happen and knows, even as he rushes forward, that there's nothing he can do to stop it.

It isn't normal for children to be at the station so Superintendent Patterson has no reason to look below knee-height as he steps out into the corridor and as result Andrew runs straight into his leg and sits down with a surprised little "oh."

Time seems to stop as Andrew and Patterson study each other and for a moment it looks like Andrew's going to burst into tears. Then, unexpectedly, Patterson smiles and picks Andrew up settling him on his hip with a practiced ease that forces Foyle to remember suddenly that the Superintendent does in fact have children.

"Better be careful young man, speeding is against the law you know" Patterson's tone is light and Andrew smiles uncertainly at him.

Then Foyle comes to a stop just behind them and Andrew's smile widens as he waves his arms excitedly, "Dada!"

Patterson turns and gives Foyle a rare smile, "So this is your young rascal then Foyle?"

Foyle nods, "Yes Sir, I'm sorry he disturbed you."

Patterson shakes his head as he hands Andrew over, "My fault as much as his, should have looked before I stepped into the hall. Besides there's no harm done."

Foyle wonders if he looks as relieved as he feels but all he says is, "Thank you Sir."

"Mama!" Andrew crows happily and Foyle and Patterson turn to see that Rosalind has also reached them, looking somewhat fluttered.

"Oh Superintendent I am sorry!" She begins but Patterson waves away her apology.

"Not to worry Mrs. Foyle, as I was telling your husband there's no harm done. High time I met your son anyway, I suspect he'll be around the station more in years to come. It's Andrew isn't it?"

"Yes Sir."

Patterson nods and turns to Andrew, "I'm very pleased to have made your acquaintance Andrew."

Andrew smiles back, "Li ou"

Patterson chuckles and Foyle has to suppress the urge to pinch his arm to prove to himself that this isn't some strange dream, "Thank you, I like you too. If you'll excuse me Foyle I have a meeting to attend."

"Of course Sir."

Patterson inclines his head to Rosalind; "It was nice to see you again Mrs. Foyle."

"And you Superintendent."

"Bye-bye" Andrew calls as Patterson starts to walk away and the Superintendent smiles and turns back to them, "Goodbye Andrew."

Once Patterson is out of sight Foyle looks at Rosalind and then down at their son, "Well done Andrew, I don't think I've ever seen him smile like that at anyone, well except Mrs. Patterson."

Andrew smiles, babbling happily as they continue down the hall so Foyle can collect his hat and coat before they go home for lunch.

* * *

A/N: Superintendent Patterson is my own creation as I needed someone to be Superintendent before Reid.


	10. Chapter 10 - Flowers and Thieves

1927

It was a beautiful spring day and Detective Sergeant Foyle was enjoying his walk home. He loved the fresh sea air and the rows of houses with their well-kept lawns that were just starting to come alive with flowers. Most of all he loved Hastings because it was home and he could think of few things better then getting home in time for tea with Andrew and Rosalind.

He was about a block from home when his solitude was interrupted. "Mr. Foyle just the man I need to speak to!"

Foyle glanced ahead and politely doffed his hat, "Mrs. Wootherspoon, what can I do for you?"

Foyle carefully kept his face neutral; Mrs. Wootherspoon could be a rather trying lady. She was long widowed and had two main interests in life, her garden and her neighbours business. Neither of which Foyle cared for but as a police officer he was obligated to at least listen to her concerns, regardless of their validity.

Mrs. Wootherspoon had reached her gate and looked decidedly grave, "Mr. Foyle I am afraid I have to report something of the most serious nature." Foyle tilted his head in an inquiring manner but remained silent. "Theft Mr. Foyle, I have been robbed!"

Her voice had risen but it was the content rather then the volume of her statement that surprised Foyle. He hadn't heard of any reported robberies this morning let alone in their area. "Robbed Mrs. Wootherspoon? Did you report it?"

Mrs. Wootherspoon sniffed, "No of course not Mr. Foyle, it is not the type of thing the police take seriously."

"Mrs. Wootherspoon I can assure that theft is taken very seriously. If you tell me what happened I will personally ensure that the investigation is carried out thoroughly."

"I believe that would be wise Mr. Foyle as it was your son who was the thief!"

Foyle froze, "Andrew?" ' _It was impossible! The lad was only 7, and knew enough to know that stealing was wrong_.' "Are you quite sure it was Andrew Mrs. Wootherspoon?"

"Of course I'm sure, I saw him with my own eyes. Standing just inside the gate and cutting off the best blossoms." She sniffed again as she pointed to a nearby flowerbed.

Foyle turned to look but could find nothing amiss, to be sure there were some stalks that were shorter then others but that was to be expected with a flower garden. "Err I'm not sure I understand you Mrs. Wootherspoon, what exactly did Andrew steal?"

"Why my prize roses of course! Surely you noticed their absence!"

Foyle pushed his hat up slightly off his brow, "Forgive me Mrs. Wootherspoon but am I to understand that this robbery you mentioned was simply Andrew cutting a few flowers from your garden?"

Mrs. Wootherspoon made an affronted noise at this summary of events. "They were not just 'a few flowers' Mr. Foyle, but the prize of my collection sure to win me first place at the next flower show. As a police officer I should think you would be more concerned about your son straying into lawlessness!"

Foyle chewned on his cheek for a minute as he tried to determine how best to respond; he was relieved that Andrew had not done anything too serious and while he felt that Mrs. Wootherspoon was overstating what occurred he did agree that it was wrong for Andrew to have picked the flowers without permission.

He cleared his throat, "No of course, I shall speak to Andrew immediately and we will come up with some way that he can help to repair the damage he's done. Now if you'll excuse me I need to get home." He doffed his hat again and left Mrs. Wootherspoon standing at her gate, staring after him.

By the time he reached the house Foyle was still at a loss as to why Andrew would have any interest in cutting Mrs. Wootherspoon's flowers. ' _A dare perhaps, lads could be foolish at times but surely seven was a little young for that?_ '

He opened the door, "Rosalind? Andrew?'

There was no response to either and that's when he remembered that it was Thursday, and Rose would be out at the ladies tea at church. But that didn't explain where Andrew was. He took off his hat and coat and finding no one in the kitchen or lounge moved toward the stairs assuming Andrew would be in his room.

His knock at the door failed to elicit an answer so he opened it and looked inside only to find no sign of his son. "Andrew?"

Silence. He checked under the bed and was just about to conclude that Andrew must be at a friend's when he heard a quiet sniff. It seemed to have come from the closet and he quickly crossed the room and opened the door.

There, in the far corner of the closet sat his son, curled up into the smallest ball possible. "Andrew, what on earth are you doing in the closet? Didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Don't want to go to jail"

The words were muffled by Andrew's knees but Foyle caught them and frowned, "Why would you go to jail Andrew?"

"Because I'm a thief and thieves get arrested and sent to jail!"

"Who said that you were a thief?"

"Mrs. Wootherspoon"

"Ah, well I spoke with Mrs. Wootherspoon on the way home."

Andrew's head came up and Foyle could clearly see the tear stains on his face, "You did? I didn't mean to be naughty Dad, really!"

Foyle smiled at his son, "I know you didn't Andrew, now come out of the closet. We can talk about this over tea."

"You promise not to arrest me?"

Foyle's lips twitch but he managed to keep a straight face, "Yes Andrew I promise, now come along."

Andrew obediently clabbered out of the closet a small bunch of roses still clenched in his fist. Foyle held out a hand for the flowers, "Why don't you let me take those while you go and wash for tea." Andrew nodded and handed them over, allowing Foyle to see where the thorns had cut his hand.

10 minutes later Andrew's face was washed and his hand carefully bandaged as he and his father sat down to tea. Foyle waited until Andrew had finished his first scone before asking about the flowers. "So want to tell me what happened?"

Andrew shrugged, "I was coming home from football and I was trying to think of what I could do to make Mum smile. She's been sad and I thought if I could make her smile maybe she would stop being sad."

Foyle felt a swell of affection for his boy, so earnest and innocent in his view of the world. "Do you know why is Mum's sad Dad?"

Foyle started slightly at the question and then took a drink of tea as he considered how to best answer it. He did know the cause of his wife's unhappiness. They had learned last week that Andrew was most likely to remain an only child. While he had been disappointed, Rose had been dreadfully upset. He had done his best to comfort her and assure her that he was perfectly happy with the family that they already had but her sorrow had lingered leaving him at a bit of a loss for what to do.

They had not, thank god, lost a child. It was simply that, for various reasons, Dr. White believed that additional children were unlikely. They had agreed not to mention it to Andrew but clearly the lad had picked up on his parents subdued mood and was trying, in his seven-year-old way, to help.

"Err it's just that something's happened that made you Mum a bit upset Andrew." He said finally, "I'm sure she will be feeling better very soon." He hoped he was not lying to his son the fact that she had gone to the church tea seemed to be an encouraging sign.

"What made her upset?"

"Something you'll understand when you're older. Don't worry Andrew you've done nothing wrong."

Andrew seemed satisfied with this answer so Foyle pushed on, "So how did Mrs. Wootherspoon's flowers come into this?"

Andrew looked sheepish, "Well I was thinking and I knew I didn't have much pocket money left and then I saw Mrs. Wootherspoon's roses. They were so pretty and Mum always smiles when you bring her flowers and you call her Rose and it seemed perfect. I didn't think that Mrs. Wootherspoon would mind if I just took a few so I start to pick the prettiest one but then she came to the door and start to yell that I was a thief so I ran away just as fast as I could. I didn't mean to be a thief Dad."

He looked at his father so earnestly that Foyle couldn't help but smile slightly, "I know you didn't Andrew but you do know it's wrong to take things that aren't yours without permission."

Andrew nodded, "Yes but I didn't know it was the same with flowers. Where do you get your flowers for Mum?"

"From a flower shop."

"Oh" Andrew thought about this for a few moments, "So what happens now? Mrs. Wootherspoon was awfully cross with me."

"Yes she was but I think when you explain what happened she will understand that it was all a misunderstanding."

Andrew brightened, clearly pleased that he would be escaping punishment for his misdeed. "That said you do know it's wrong to take things and you are going to offer to help Mrs. Wootherspoon in her garden on Saturday to make up for the trouble you've caused her."

Andrew's face fell, "But Dad we have a match on Saturday!"

"Then you will have to miss it."

"But Dad . . ."

"No Andrew, what you did was wrong. Those were Mrs. Wootherspoon's roses and even though you were taking them to try and do something nice you should have asked her if it was all right first. Because you didn't you caused her a lot of trouble and you need to help make up for that."

Andrew nodded, eyes fixed on the table, "Yes Dad."

"It's alright to make mistakes Andrew but you need to take responsibility for them and learn from them."

"Yes Sir."

"Good, now finish your tea and then we'll go and see Mrs. Wootherspoon so you can apologize. If we're quick we might still be able to get to the flower shop before it closes."

"Really?" Andrew asked eagerly.

"Yes, now finish up."

The meeting with Mrs. Wootherspoon had gone well. Once Andrew explained the reasoning behind his theft she had softened and his offer to come and help on Saturday was seen as ample penance for his actions. "You bring him by around 9am Mr. Foyle," she had said, "that will give us a few good hours of work before tea and I think that will be plenty."

They had parted on a much happier note then earlier and still made it to the flower shop before it closed. Where, after much consideration, Andrew chose a small bunch of meadow flowers for his mother, "Because they're pretty just like Mum." Foyle smiled and quietly paid the difference that Andrew's allowance had not covered without him knowing.

Rosalind was delighted with the flowers and laughed for the first time since their meeting with Dr. White when Foyle told her the full story after Andrew had gone to bed and from that day onward her beautiful smile was seen more frequently until it was once again a fixture in the Foyle household.


	11. Chapter 11 - First Day

1924

"MUMMY! DADDY!"

DS Foyle gave his wife a quick smile and crouched down to catch the small whirlwind that was their son. Andrew barreled into him throwing his arms around his neck, "DADDY you're here!"

Foyle chuckled and stood up shifting Andrew to his hip, "Hello Andrew, did you have a good day?"

The little boy nodded eagerly, "We learned letters and coloured and Miss Wright read us a story and I liked it but not as much as when you and Mummy read me stories"

He stopped for breath, twisting in Foyle's arms, "Mummy, I was good! I listened and I passed lots when we played football!"

Rosalind and Christopher exchanged a proud smile before he pressed a kiss to their son's forehead, "Well done Andrew, Mummy and I are proud of you son."

Andrew beamed but squirmed to be put down as he saw another little boy coming through the gate, "That's Rex! Down please Daddy!"

Foyle complied chuckling as he watched his son race towards the other little boy, satchel flying precariously behind him and his cap nearly falling out of his pocket. He looked at Rosalind, a gentle smile playing at his lips as he took her hand, remembering the way her eyes had filled with tears when they had dropped Andrew off that morning; "Sounds like he had a good day love"

Rosalind smiled and squeezed his hand, "Yes it does"

"Come on, Daddy will show you his policeman card!" Andrew's excited voice caused them both to turn as Andrew and another dark haired little boy came to a stop in front of them.

Rosalind smiled warmly, looking from him to Andrew, "Andrew, do you want to introduce us to your friend?"

Andrew nodded, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet as he slung an arm around the other little boy's shoulders, "This is Rex! He sits next to me and he likes football too and we can both write our names, 'cept Rex has a longer name too but he likes Rex better"

He paused, looking at the other little boy for confirmation and Rex nodded, "I only get called Reginald when I'm in trouble so I'd rather be Rex if I may."

He looked uncertain, as if he wasn't used to his preferences being taken into consideration very often, and Rosalind smiled encouragingly, "I'm very pleased to meet you Rex"

The little boy beamed back at her, holding out his right hand politely, "I'm pleased to meet you too Mrs.…"

"Foyle" Rosalind supplied quickly as she shook his hand, "Is someone coming to meet you Rex?"

The little boy looked down, shifting from foot to foot, "I think Mrs. Brice is coming. Mother and Father are in London till Saturday"

"Rex's Daddy helps put bad men in prison too but he's not a policeman like you are Daddy he talks to judges instead right Rex?"

Andrew interjected eagerly and Rex nodded, "He's a lawyer and so he and Mother are in London lots 'cause lots of important people want him to work for him."

Rosalind smiled, "That's wonderful"

Rex puffed out his chest slightly while Andrew turned to his father, "Daddy, can you show Rex your policeman card?"

Foyle smiled and withdrew his warrant card, holding it out for the boys to see. "That tells all the bad men they have to listen to Daddy." Andrew explained proudly before looking up at his mother, "Mummy is it tea soon? I'm hungry"

Rosalind smiled and ran a gentle hand through Andrew's curls while Foyle put his warrant card back in his pocket, "We'll have tea as soon as we get home Andrew." She scanned the area and then turned back to Rex, "Do you want us to walk you home Rex?"

The little boy shook his head, "No thank you Mrs. Foyle, I can wait or go myself. I walked to school by myself this morning." He added proudly and Rosalind nodded although she couldn't help worrying about him finding his own way on the first day.

She glanced at Christopher who was also looking concerned but before either of them could speak a voice called out, "Master Rex" and they all turned to see a stout middle-aged woman waving to Rex from across the schoolyard.

"That's Mrs. Brice" Rex explained, hitching his satchel higher up his shoulder, "I have to go. Goodbye Mr. and Mrs. Foyle, I'll see you tomorrow Andrew!"

"See you tomorrow!" Andrew called back waving enthusiastically as Rex ran off before looking up at his mother, "Mummy did you miss me?"

Rosalind nodded and picked him up, pressing a kiss to his forehead, "I missed you very much my darling boy but I'm glad you had such a lovely day. Did you make other friends?"

Andrew nodded and began an excited retelling of his day, which was not interrupted when his father took him from his mother's arms and settled him on his hip. Christopher and Rosalind exchanged a gentle smile as he offered her his arm and their little family made their way home for tea.

* * *

A/N: I hope everyone's school year has started well!


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